


Strange Victory, Strange Defeat

by softwinds



Category: What We Do in the Shadows (TV)
Genre: Attempt at Humor, Crack, Crack Treated Seriously, Fluff, Getting Back Together, Happy Ending, M/M, Making Nandor Spin, guys listen im trying
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-20
Updated: 2020-08-20
Packaged: 2021-03-06 23:40:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,670
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26017429
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/softwinds/pseuds/softwinds
Summary: “Well, they really had us at the first part, not going to lie,” Laszlo removes his reading glasses and peeks out from behind the invitation letter. “Right until when it starts ranting about wild, electrifying vampire-human sex.”Nadja turns to Nandor, hands waving in midair as if to make a desperate attempt fishing for some appropriate words.“Nandor! Did you not tell us that you and Gizmo were married?” Finally, she slaps her palms into her lap. “How could you do something like this? Now that he has left you, half the house will be his! We didn’t even have the chance to fight it!”“We were not married!” Nandor defends himself, “I would know it if we were married!”“So it was just fucking?” Laszlo joins in to support his wife. “You were fadoodling, joining giblets, doing the bear, training dick-fencing with Gizmo in your secret sex-coffin without any of your friends knowing?”-Nandor receives an invitation from VAMENA (the Vampiric Association for Marriage Equality in North America) for his inspiring activism and direct actions. They also want him to make a speech.
Relationships: Guillermo de la Cruz/Nandor the Relentless
Comments: 25
Kudos: 96





	Strange Victory, Strange Defeat

**Author's Note:**

> The idea was born from a convo with [Interrobam](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Interrobam/pseuds/Interrobam), [poppy_plant](https://archiveofourown.org/users/poppy_plant/pseuds/poppy_plant) and [madelgard](https://archiveofourown.org/users/madelgard/pseuds/madelgard) in mid July. It came back to me in a dream (yes i know) so I decided to write it up
> 
> It is very silly and I kinda finished it in between moving so there might be bugs, but I really hope that you'll enjoy it!!!

Dear Nandor the Relentless,

Dark greetings! We are thrilled to invite you and your loved ones for a night of profane fun and celebrations all in your honor!

A lot has happened in the past year: the second Tri-continental Charity Flying Marathon, our letter campaign for saving the Houtzdale Blood Bank, the _Big Splash_ , the unfortunate passing and Tibetan funeral-orgy of our beloved friend Angelica the Deboner... But among all the successes and achievements, there was one part of 2019 we treasured deeply in our heart. It was your inspiring activism and direct actions that motivated the hard-working members of _VAMENA_ (the Vampiric Association for Marriage Equality in North America) to push our cause towards a higher level.

In order to commend your service in our shared mission, we humbly ask you to deliver a personal speech at the annual VAMENA dinner gala on Saturday, November 2nd, starting at 8:00pm eastern time. You and your guests will be treated to fine entertainment and a blood feast provided by our volunteers, with no-kill and non-human options available. 

We truly hope to see you there! Together we shall march towards a better future— a world where sexy, unholy beasts and their human partners can kiss, hold hands and make passionate love to each other in broad moonlight without being judged, a world where human-vampire marriages are recognized and celebrated without your mortal half wearing fake Halloween fangs 24/7.

Please RSVP by leaving a bejeweled envelope outside your door and calling for our raven Dilnavaz. Be sure to tell us whether you will attend as well as and how many guests you are bringing. The event location will be disclosed to you upon receiving your response.

Thank you for all your support! 

Sincerely,

Lulu the Destroyer of Boars

_President of VAMENA_

_Whispers from the Swamp_

and 

_Wanted Criminal in All 16 Northern States_

P.S. Our staff have also sent an invitation to your human partner by email. Please only reply once if both of you will be attending.

-

“Well, they really had us at the first part, not going to lie,” Laszlo removes his reading glasses and peeks out from behind the invitation letter. “Right until when it starts ranting about wild, electrifying vampire-human sex.”

Nadja turns to Nandor, hands waving in midair as if to make a desperate attempt fishing for some appropriate words. 

“Nandor! Did you not tell us that you and Gizmo were married?” Finally, she slaps her palms into her lap. “How could you do something like this? Now that he has left you, half the house will be his! We didn’t even have the chance to fight it!”

“We were not married!” Nandor defends himself, “I would know it if we were married!”

“So it was just fucking?” Laszlo joins in to support his wife. “You were fadoodling, joining giblets, doing the bear, training dick-fencing with Gizmo in your secret sex-coffin without any of your friends knowing?”

“I never slept with Guillermo—”

“— Oh really? Because it says right there, where you _kiss, hold hands and make passionate love to each other in the broad moonlight_ , which definitely sounds like ‘sleeping with the lad’ to me.”

“I did see you folks holding hands once,” _Damn you Colin Robinson_. “Multiple times, actually, whenever you went in and out of your beauty sleep.”

The other two vampires nod in agreement. Knowing there’s no escape from this, Nandor winces and answers in defeat. “It was _touching_ , not holding, and it was only for the familiar to show some respect for his Master! There are many, _many_ steps between touching hands and poking butts!”

Nadja snorts, rolling up her eyes. Laszlo looks down with a brush of guilt on his face but very hastily chews it back in. Colin Robinson grins and assumes his pre-feeding position, waiting for the storm to brew and hit their living room, his pupils glowing bright.

Despite all the reluctance, Nandor holds up his hands and surrenders. 

“Okay! Okay, let us all calm down. Anyway, the _Lulu the Destroyer of Boars_ lady had made a mistake— even though I am sure that the things I did every day were all very brave and inspiring, and I am very much deserving of a dinner party planned in the name of Nandor the Relentless— I was not married to, or doing wrestling in the coffin with Guillermo, who has left me alone by myself even after all the nice words I have said to him. So, no, we are _not_ going to this galà thing. Not even for the fact that Guillermo might be there.”

“Aw, bummers.” Colin Robinson shrugs. Nandor decides to ignore Nadja, who’s silently mouthing “pathetic” to her husband behind her loosely spread-out fingers.

Laszlo puts his glasses back on and picks up the next envelope underneath. 

“Ah! Nanty-narking! It’s a birthday card, this one. Very kind of whoever our well-wisher is. _We’d like to share this special moment of your life, because today you become two years old — Hallmark Musical Greeting Card._ ” He fits a fingertip between the two covers. “A bit late on Mr. or Mrs. Hallmark’s part, I should say. What is a musical greeting card exactly?”

He flips open the front page and a demonic, thundering voice immediately fills the room to every corner.

“GREETINGS, THE VAMPIRES OF STATEN ISLAND. YOU ARE HEREBY SUMMONED TO YOUR SECOND COURT TRIAL BY THE VAMPIRIC COUNCIL ON NOVEMBER THE SECOND FOR YOUR UNSPEAKABLE CRIMES—”

“Ass-eating bloody mother of—” 

“— PLEASE ATTEND UNLESS OTHERWISE OCCUPIED FOR REASONS SUCH AS DEATHLY DUEL, DENTAL EMERGENCY, ESOTERIC OCCULT GATHERING—”

Laszlo smacks the birthday card close and slams it onto the floor, hissing at those yellow and blue balloon drawings on the cover as if he can somehow scare the trial notice away.

“Well,” after a dreadingly long period of silence, Colin Robinson stands up and stretches out his arms. “I guess we’re all going to Nandor’s gala.”

-

The downside of walking across East Village at night is that you can never tell who is actually a blood-drinking vampire and who’s not. You spot someone in a cape, shell necklace and Gaucho pants, and you think to yourself: “Ah! Gustav the Anti-conformist! I know this guy from the 70s! We boogied together in Kansas City!” But when you sneak up and pretend to bite them as a funny surprise greeting, they just run away screaming like a hunted goose, leaving behind a single slipper you _know_ that Gustav would never wear.

The gang climbs down a steep flight of stairs at the back of _Orlok’s Evil Bean Juice_ , where a large metal gate opens to an entire dining hall hidden from sight. Around forty or fifty vampires are already sitting at the tables, along with ten or so human guests (or food, except that none of them smells virgin), chit-chatting with one another. Guillermo is not here— Nandor cannot spot anyone in round glasses and sultry sweaters, both to his relief and disappointment.

The dinner is not yet served or already over. However, a smaller door with “Chamber of Feasting” written in red paint stands solitarily at the corner, almost immediately catching the attention of Nadja and Laszlo. The duo scampers inside after exchanging a devious string of giggles, leaving Nandor behind with Colin Robinson. 

“So, Nandor,” the psychic vampire adjusts his navy-colored bowtie. “Excited for your big moment?”

Unwilling to offer himself up as Colin Robinson’s meal starter, Nandor decides to keep his mouth shut. A muscular vampire lady in a shimmering magenta suit, pencil skirt and knee-high socks strolls onto the elevated stage and starts stomping energetically, shaking all four walls and the ceiling above.

“Dark greetings everyone, thanks for coming to our annual VAMENA Dinner. I am Lulu the Destroyer of Boars,” she sing-songs into the microphone with a smokey voice. “Glad that we could all make it— unlike the wimps who sided with the Vampiric Council, am I right?”

The crowd cheers. Someone’s top hat flies on stage and lands by Lulu’s heels.

“Yeah, that’s right! Because they are no more, gone with all their high horses and moth-eaten beliefs, thanks to our recipient of honor, friend of the association Nandor the Relentless, and his human lover, Guillermo de la Crueeeeeelz!” Lulu joyfully spreads out her arms. “Sorry for butchering that last name. Still can’t bring myself to say it. Anyways, tonight, by the keen demands of everyone here at the party, we have invited Mr. The Relentless to sit with us and to say a few words of encouragement.”

Nandor waves awkwardly to the attendees sitting around his table, all of whom are clapping passionately and nodding at him, including Colin Robinson. He has drafted a few paragraphs, just in case he suddenly develops any on-sight vampiric brain gumbo— and a major mind freeze is happening right this moment. Nandor has also prepared to make his talk as dull and unimaginative as possible so that few questions can be asked, especially on why his _human lover_ is not accompanying him to an event like this.

“But before that,” Lulu’s voice interrupts his train of thoughts. “The wonderful folks at VAMENA have compiled a wonderful gift for the two lovebirds— owls— bats. Technicians! Pull the screen down!”

Before Nandor can register the situation, a generously sized piece of grey fabric flumps down from the stage ceiling. He hears the creaking sounds of a nickelodeon film roll being emplaced, and a beam of light shines on from above his crown. _Nandor And Guillermo, a Tribute from Us_ , the projected letters read. The cursive words disappear only after a few seconds before a new frame settling in, and he really, truly doesn’t want to know what will happen next.

 _“Guillermo is my familiar, but sometimes he is a little … too familiar.”_ On the large projector screen, Nandor in full chainmail armor stares solemnly into the camera. 

“Ah… fuck.” Sitting in the audience, Nandor wishes to smack himself with a wooden stake. 

The video cuts to a different clip, where a human man is shoving in multiple threads of wheat-colored human food while halfheartedly stammers about “normal husband and rude cosplaying husband buying glitters every other week presumably for some sort of sex thing”. The next, another footage from the documentary crew, Nandor stepping out of his coffin with his fingers tightly pressed into Guillermo’s palm. (Two of three whistles zig-zag through the crowd. Colin Robinson nods knowingly and pats against his shoulder blades, making zero effort to hide his smugness. “Quite seditious, huh, Nandor?”)

The following one, a shaky clip of the starry night sky, vertically fashioned, likely taken by someone easily excitable— the filmmaker screams when a bright dot glides up into the lower frame. The camera zooms in, focusing on the moving object, and there it is: Nandor clasping Guillermo against his chest like a magpie clutching a decorative ball ornament from New Year’s Eve. The human’s face is bright with joy and... adoration, his smile way too innocent even for a guileless fledgling.

Nandor suddenly feels bad. He looks around again to make sure that Guillermo is not hiding in any enshrouded corner— which he is not— and the knowledge does absolutely nothing to lift his spirit. Instead, Nandor’s heart only anchors down even further. 

He thumbs at the little piece of paper in his coat pocket, where lies the lukewarm, uneager script for his speech. Finally, he decides to suck the strange feeling up and get this whole dinner party thing over with, leaving any emotional turmoil, self reflection or crying-while-snapping-victims-necks to future Nandor.

The video continues through several more footages, including the one where he whines at Guillermo to “not put his head there” while picking up some paper, his face right on the level of Nandor’s crotch. The grand finale is taken at the Nouveau Théâtre des Vampires: Nandor lies about tearing apart his own familiar who had possibly committed vampicide, and Vladislav stops him from spouting on how his feelings are hurt. Then Guillermo drops from the ceiling like the most unsparing, valorous, _handsome_ spider the world has ever witnessed, saving the gang by slaughtering their captors left and right— the blooded bodies are blurred out for the viewers’ comfort, but the members of VAMENA blissfully cheer for each and every destruction of their mutual enemies. 

“What heroic act! An act of sacrifice and love, an act of immortal— and mortal devotions alike!” Lulu exclaims. 

Nandor frowns, trying to figure out what she meant. Sacrifice? Yes. Well, Nadja and Laszlo were pretty much ready to sacrifice Guillermo. Devotion? A familiar is supposed to follow and protect his master till the nights end. But _love_? 

Not fear, not a trained sense of obligation: love, from a beautiful young champion like his _Guillermo_ , to the equally attractive but admittedly less young, sometimes slightly foolish and inconsiderate— _Nandor_? It couldn’t be. And even if it was, the precious bond must have been lost right there at the theater, by the last syllable that bounced off his own baleful tongue. 

Part of him wonders if he’ll ever see Guillermo again.

But the audience claps. Caught between the enthusiasm from everyone else and whatever Nandor’s experiencing, Colin Robinson gleefully crams up every bit of psychic energy in the dining hall like a grizzly in salmon seasons. 

“It is not easy to love your familiar,” Lulu continues. “It is too _ordinary_ for the hoity toity few. Too _boring_. They entertain the thought of being with a human, but it just always has to be someone so _special_. It has to be a princess, or a married religious lady truly pure at heart, or a reincarnation of your past lovers, a girl who is also involved with the werewolves...”

“We should fight to normalize dating werewolves!” A vampire yells from her table.

“Yes, yes, we know your demands, Hayley. You have a thing for the fluffy ones, but that’s not our theme today, alright?” Lulu shakes his head, nose crinkled as if to hold back a wince. “Back to the topic: if you are madly in love with a wild, forbidden fruit, leading the whole storyline toward major drama and tragedy, then it is considered cool, chic, adventurous; but if you start a kissing affair with your own familiar, the one who knows all your most disgusting feeding habits and is still with you, suddenly you are considered a slutty slutty wanton. Or a regular manwhore, in our friend Nandor’s case.”

Many look in Nandor’s direction sympathetically. _I am not a manwhore!_ He mouths to Colin Robinson. The latter only lightly shrugs, not even lending him the most basic support.

Lulu smiles politely and steps aside, motioning for Nandor to get on the stage. It seems that they have reached the speech-and-toast segment, and it should be Nandor’s imperative to elevate this whole event to its climax— which is already a doomed quest, since he has deliberately written down the most vague and mundane words in the vampire history, thereby leaving it no chance to shine. 

Nandor reluctantly stands up and treks up the stage, feeling way too relenting compared to his normal measure. Standing under the circle of blinding lights, He shakes open his script. 

“Greetings, mortals and immortals,” Nandor’s lips touch the microphone, setting off a loud wave of static noises. “I am Nandor the relentless, conqueror of thousands, immortal warrior, who has twice turned the Euphrates itself red with—”

_Fucking guy._

It is the exact same introduction taken from his speech at the City Council. Guillermo helped him rehearse those sentences to the maximum intimidation level, assuring that their pitiable town governors would prostrate themselves to Nandor’s mercy once he asked. His familiar was so placable back then. Guillermo has changed, and he has changed too, so why would the old opening be any good? 

Silently, Nandor folds up the piece of paper and tucks it back into his pocket.

“I am Nandor the Relentless, conqueror, immortal warrior, landscaper, all of the things I just described,” he starts again, glimpsing at the encouraging faces below. “I am very glad and honored that you invited me to your fine event. It is very humbling for me, and for my vampire roommates as well.”

Laszlo and Nadja are still nowhere to be seen, presumably running wild in the Chamber of Feasting. Looking up from something he is holding, Colin Robinson waves around and points at himself excitedly. A vampire sitting nearby suddenly drops down from his bergère with a loud thump.

“It is very difficult for me to say this, so feel free to forget about it afterwards,” Nandor sheepishly darts his eyes to the side. “But I wish to admit that I have made a very big mistake, and that I am undeserving of your commendations.”

“ _Gosh dang it_!” A man yells from deep inside the crowd. “Did the recipient eat their human again?”

“What? No! I would never eat Guillermo!”

“So what misprision is it? Cheated on your own gent with another one of those flirt-gills?” A ruffle wearing vampire points his cane at Nandor. “I told you guys a long time ago that we should _quack_ that Pamela Anderson callet—”

“See? Here we go again,” A young woman stands up from the other side of the hall. “Tommy Lee was never going to be with you, Angus the Skull-Tumbler! He was only playing with your feelings!”

“You don’t know that, you lily-livered trunk of a toad! He wrote _Dr. Feelgood_ for me!”

“— Please, _everybody quiet_!” Nandor yells in despair. Fortunately, the screeching mic feedback quickly puts the tumults back into their seats.

He continues. “As I said, I made a very big mistake regarding my former familiar, Guillermo. I might have mistreated him. I might have given him the stupid, imbecilic idea that I did not care about him; that I did not appreciate him, or even like him. I knew that he had some other silly thoughts— and I couldn’t abide encouraging those thoughts.

“It is like having a little kitty: you feed them fish, and fresh milk from the goats; but sometimes they will look at you with those big, sparkling eyes when you are eating bread. And you can’t give the kitty bread. Even though you might like it, and the kitten also likes it, in the end it is just not very healthy for their tummy. They are too delicate. It will give your kitty those weird poop things— which Guillermo also had.”

Nandor inhales deeply. “But despite all the things I just said, which made a lot of sense to me before, I just found out that there was a misjudgment made on my part. I was ignoring something very important for a moderate amount of time, when Guillermo was still following me around.”

There are many confused looks and murmurings coming from his audience. 

“You mean you guys broke up?”

“No, we did not _break up_. It was not a mutual thing. We had a misunderstanding that lasted for eleven years, a lot of hurtful words being said, and he left me.”

A young human woman with pink hair raises her hand. “By bread do you mean fucking?”

“I,” Nandor pauses. “It was not only about fucking, lady with bubblegum on the head. I am a very nicely endowed vampire, and I enjoy my orgies just like the next dark prince or princess. The one thing I got wrong was—”

Before he finishes his sentence, the double gate at the hall entrance swings open. 

The staircase leading down is completely shielded in thick shadows, and Nandor can’t tell the colors and shapes clearly with all the LED lights shining above his head even through his dark vision. However, he hears stifled gasps, clattering of forks and knives falling against the human attendees’ plates. 

A sharp figure steps upon the marble floors, the knocking of his heels distinct like the finest timbres on a pipe organ. In a warm tan trenchcoat, sweaters and dark pants, hair bouncy but nicely combed, face flushed and lips parting, a small cellular phone grasped in his palm— it’s Guillermo. 

Nandor blinks to make sure he is not hallucinating from having too many feelings all at once. The man he has not seen in two months appears right there across the room and stares at him. He is apparently anxious (about what? Nandor is the one embarrassing himself in front of the whole New York City), but the strength in his stance reminds Nandor of a lion cub who has readily learned to hunt.

Guillermo. _His_ Guillermo.

“The one thing you got wrong with your _boyfriend_ ,” the bubblegum lady snaps Nandor out of his trance. “What was it?”

Soaring over every tiny head in the room, his own gaze and Guillermo’s meet. The human suddenly looks wild-eyed and confused, as if he doesn’t know what to do or why he is here. But Nandor can take charge of it now, for he has a clear answer in mind.

“Guillermo is a human. Humans adjust to many things a kitty cat cannot,” Nandor tries to conjure up a sincere and not-too-toothy smile. “And I should allow myself to try this thing with him. Boyfriend, consort, _boo_ , whatever it is called these days— Just for a little bit, at least— we can circle back around if it is not working. Do you agree with me, the man standing in the back?”

Guillermo’s jaw drops open. And from a distance, with the tiniest movements that drum on Nandor’s chest and plants down a thousand budding roses and salvias, his human nods. Nandor almost starts crying.

-

 _Thank you Colin Robinson_. Nandor thinks to himself as he is pushed against the wall by Guillermo’s chest and forearms, grinning ear to ear like an idiot person. Maybe he should do more public speaking in the future, if it is truly this powerful and effective.

Not for world domination or anything— He should do it for his boyfriend, at least.

**Author's Note:**

> No Mötley Crüe member is harmed in the making this fic (I promise). Title is from a song by Silver Jews
> 
> Kudos and comments are so so so welcomed as usual!!! And apologize for replying to comments late recently, I'm trying to catch up real soon >.<


End file.
